


Traditions

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [62]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/F, F/M, M/M, Parentlock, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Angelo's...





	1. Chapter 1

"Lily?"

"Hey, Sherlock, is John around?"

"Just out buying milk, he should be back in a few minutes." Sherlock pushed his specs onto his nose and looked at her closely as she dropped onto the couch. Of the two women, she was always the one who spoke her mind the loudest, she was always marching for something, the activist of the two, she and Sherlock always had good debates about whatever it was that needed to be debated, he would take the opposite side even if he agreed with her to give her someone to battle when she needed it. He had never seen her nervous, but today, she was nervous.

"Hungry?" He asked as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"No, I'm fine." He turned at the tone in her voice, quiet, a bit unsure, not brimming with her usual brash confidence.

"Lily." He walked back to the front room and sat next to her on the couch. "Is something wrong with Ro?"

She shook her head, then looked up as she heard John's footsteps on the stairs, closing her eyes as she heard him push the door open.

"Lily?" John smiled at her, then met Sherlock's gaze. "Let me put the milk away, and -" He stopped, dropped the bag on the floor, then picked up the client's chair and placed it in front of the couch.

"What's going on, Lily?" John asked quietly.

She sat up and cleared her throat. "As you both know, Rosie and I, well, we've been together for a while, and, uhm, living together for a couple of years..."

Sherlock and John nodded.

"I know, well, she and I both know how you feel about marriage -"

"How do we feel about marriage, Lily?" Sherlock asked quietly, a small smile reaching his eyes.

"Well, I assumed, I mean, I've known you since, well, forever, and - she said -"

"Just because we didn't do it, doesn't mean we have anything against it." John murmured, taking Sherlock's hand in his. 

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.'" Sherlock grinned at her as she breathed out a sigh of relief, and sat up a little taller.

"Well, I'm here, because, well, I want to ask for your permission - I don't even know if she'll say yes - but I wanted - I want to marry her."

"Good." Sherlock nodded at her. "That's good, Lily."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." John whispered. 

"It will be small - I mean, if she says yes. I have put some money away, but - it's mostly for the honeymoon -" She finally smiled at them, then pulled the box out of her pocket. "Do you think - I mean - do you think she would want to - this? With me?"

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and held her gently. "I can't imagine anything that would make her happier." He cleared his throat and whispered, "you have our permission, Lil. Of course you do."

Lily nodded and wiped the unshed tears from her eyes, then got to her feet. "I hope, you guys - you two have always - I hope she and I will be as happy as you - I've never met anyone who - you guys make it look easy. Damn, I have to go - I asked her to lunch -"

"Angelo's?" John grinned at her.

"Where else?" She winked at them, then bolted down the stairs.

John looked over at Sherlock and his breath caught. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. No, it's good, John. It's something Ro's always dreamed of. No... she's never said anything to me. Maybe she thought -" Sherlock shrugged. "Wedding magazines - used to keep them under her pillow..."

"I didn't think you knew -"

Sherlock met John's eyes and shook his head. "There's very little I don't know about Rosie, John. I've never deleted anything about you, or about her, it's why -"

"You always forget where you left your specs, your wallet, and your keys?" John stood up from his chair, pushed Sherlock's specs back into his curls and kissed his forehead. "Tea?"

"Tea. Please?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelo's...

"Is she - ?"

Angelo nodded. "She just arrived. Too bad it's broad daylight, a candle would -"

Lily grinned at him, then kissed his cheek. "Next time, we'll have dinner, and you can get out every candle in the restaurant. Give us a couple minutes, and then -"

"Your regular."

Lily winked at him and nodded. "You spoil us, Angelo."

"Nothing is too good for you two."

"Wish me luck?"

"None is needed. I just know - have always known."

 

"Hey."

"Hey, yerself, sorry I'm late, just had an errand to run. No. Don't."

Rosie raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't what?"

"Do that deducing thing your Da does. Just let me do this, yeah?"

Rosie nodded.

"We've known each other since the day I walked into school. We were -"

"Ten."

"Ten. I've known you, we've known each other for more than half of our lives, and I've loved you, well, you know."

Rosie nodded again and reached out her hands to Lily. "Forever."

"And a day. I know it's not possible. But it's the truth, Rosie."

"I know."

"So, in that spirit..." Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out a red velvet box, then placed it in front of Rosie. "I - damn. Words. Rosie Watson-Holmes, please, will you be my wife, my partner in all things, forever -"

"And ever." Rosie opened the box, then covered her mouth. "Lil'?"

"I know a guy."

Rosie spluttered, then finally laughed out loud, as she gave Lily the box and her trembling hand. 

"Is that a yes, Rosie?"

"Yes, of course, yes, Lily, yes. I have to -" Rosie watched as Lily slid the ring on her finger, then brought her hand to her lips.

"They know. I just wanted -"

"You wanted their blessing."

"I know how important they are to you, and they have basically been my dads ever since -"

Rosie nodded. "I'm assuming they were okay with it, then?"

"More than. I ordered lunch."

"Our regular?"

"What else?" Lily grinned at her, then turned and winked at Angelo. "We are going to eat, and then we'll go tell them, together?"

"I love you."

Lily nodded and kissed her hand once more. "I love you, more."

"Uh-uhhh."

"Uh-huh."

"Lunch!" Angelo placed a single plate in front of them with two forks. "Eat!"

They ate in silence, then rose from their seats, hand in hand, kissed Angelo goodbye, then slowly walked to Baker Street.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Rosie

Sherlock stood at the window, hands behind his back, watching as the girls approached the door- no, they weren't girls any longer, they were women, two of the best, strongest, wisest people he had ever known. He suddenly recalled the first time he met Lily, after school one spring - they were both ten, Rosie was older by -

"I'm older -"

Lily had snorted with a grin. "By a day and a half."

"Still."

"Lily, this is my Da, Da, this is my, this is Lily."

Sherlock had nodded and lifted an eyebrow at the darkening bruise under Lily's eye. "Let's get you something for that, hmm?" She had shrugged, but followed him to the kitchen, then hopped up on a kitchen chair. "Not the first time."

"Nope."

"Just keep your hands up, next time. Protect your face, hmm?"

Lily had narrowed her eyes at him, observing him silently for a long moment, then nodded. "I tend to drop my left. You're not like other parents."

"Nope."

 

"Hey, Da." Rosie was standing in front of him, and he blinked down at her. 

"Ro. Lily -?"

"She went home, she knew I wanted to see you on my own first."

Sherlock nodded. "John went out - claimed he had some errand to do..."

"He's a smart guy."

"Yes. Always was. Smarter than me in many ways. I put the kettle on, thought you might be -"

"She told me that you gave her your blessing."

"We both did." Sherlock watched her face change and he wrapped his arms around her, holding on as she leaned into him.

"I love her."

"I know."

"It was so easy. You and Papa made it so easy for us, you never - you never tried to change me, and I know, I know how lucky I am, how lucky we are, not everyone is like you."

Sherlock chuckled as he held her tighter and kissed her hair. "The world is probably better for it."

She shook her head against his chest. "No. It isn't."

"I am so very happy for you, Ro, so happy and so very proud of you, of both of you. You know that, don't you?"

Rosie pulled back from him and started at the silent tears streaming down his face. She wiped them away gently with her hands and nodded. "I've always known, Da. Always."

"Good." He cleared his throat and nodded at her. "I do have a bit of experience with wedding planning, it was a few years ago, but if you need any help - serviettes, I am quite good at folding serviettes - a bit like riding a bicycle..."

"Da. You don't have to do anything, except, well, I was wondering if you and Papa- well, we don't really need bridesmaids, or anything like that, and I know weddings aren't your thing, but we want you and Papa to stand up for us - no speeches or anything - I just want you to be there..." She watched his face and began to turn away. "Sorry, it's ridiculous. Sorry I asked -"

"Of course I'll stand up for you, Ro. I've always known that you've been dreaming of your wedding day since you met her - of course I knew - I know you think that I have something against it - I don't, not really - I just never needed it with your Papa. When he brought you here to live, to share your life, his life with me after everything that we had been through, I knew what it meant. The people who love us know, they always knew, seemed to know before we did what we were to each other, I didn't need a ceremony, or a party. My life, since the two of you have lived here, has been a party, it has. A weird, slightly chaotic party at times, but - this party has made my life - you and your Papa are my life, Ro, and Lily has been a big part of that for a long time." She wrapped her arms around him and let her tears dampen his shirt. "Of course I'll be there, Ro."

"Swans, Da."

"Yep. Swans, Ro."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some fluff with a teensy bit of angst...

"No meringues." Rosie muttered as she stopped in front of the bridal shop window, and pressed her nose to the glass.

"Meringues?" John's nose crinkled in confusion for a moment. "Ah... right... how many times did we watch that movie? Nine times?"

"I think it was an even dozen, actually. Da knew some bits by heart, they are probably rattling around in his Mind Palace somewhere. Lil's going to wear a tux, but I want a dress I can dance in. No high heels. Converse. Lilac."

"Hmmm?" John blinked at his daughter and she kissed his cheek.

"You went somewhere."

"Just - your Da - when I married your Mum, he worked so hard, to make it perfect, and it was. Even solved a murder before it happened during his speech. It was a perfect day..."

"But?" Rosie asked quietly.

"As your Da has reminded me over the years, if I had never met your Mum, we wouldn't have you. As much as I regret some of the choices I made back then, I would have regretted not having you in my life, in our lives even more. I loved your Mum, she was -"

"Complicated?" Rosie suggested with a lift of an eyebrow, reminding him of Sherlock.

"In a word." John shrugged and grinned sheepishly at his daughter. "Do you want to go in? See what non-meringue, dancing dresses they have?"

Rosie nodded and leaned against him for a moment. "Thanks, Papa."

John kissed her hair and shook his head. "No, thank you, Rosie." He offered her his arm and she laughed, but laid her hand on his arm as he opened the door. "Ready?"

"Into battle." Rosie blanched, as the three sales ladies surrounded them when they stepped over the threshold.

 

"How did it go?" Sherlock asked as John fell into bed.

"I didn't know."

Sherlock closed the book he was reading and pushed his specs into his curls. "That bad?"

"No, Mary had picked out her dress on her own - and you were in charge of everything else. All I had to do was taste things and smell things, and nod my head. This time, I actually have to have an opinion. I thought she looked beautiful in everything, and I know the ladies are supposed to up sell, it's their job. I want her to have - I just want her to have everything she wants."

"Did she find a dress yet?"

"No. Do you know how many dress shops there are in London? This was just the first one." John curled up against Sherlock and sighed as he closed his eyes.

"I'm happy to -"

"Hmm... no... I'll survive... but, if they ask for help with the cake?"

"Maybe we can summon Myc out of retirement for that?"

"That's why you're the genius."

"I don't know about that... I have just learned how to delegate, not as young as I was back then."

John opened his eyes and sat up. "I -"

Sherlock shook his head and placed a finger on his lips. "Don't. This isn't about us. It's about Ro and Lily, giving them their day, being there for them. You don't owe me anything, John Watson, we both - back then, we were a mess. Most of it of my making. No. Let me finish. We've had twenty-three years, John, twenty-three years of this, of us, we've been a family, you and I, and Rosie and, for the last thirteen years, Lily. Somehow we have a family, John. I don't think much of miracles, but, the universe - or whatever you choose to call it, has granted us permission to be together, to love each other, yeah, it took us a ridiculously long time to get here, and we both made decisions... I don't want to live in the past, John. We can't change it, but we can be here now, live here, now, and not have any regrets. I don't regret what I had to do back then - I know, I know how much it changed you, how much it changed us, but it made me appreciate what I've had all this time. You and Rosie have been a gift, John, whether I deserved the gift or not, I try not to ask those questions. All I know is that I love you, and I know you love me, and we have a daughter, and soon we will have two daughters, and that's enough, John."

John blinked hard at him and nodded, then laid trembling fingers along Sherlock's jawline. "I do, love you, so very much."

Sherlock kissed his forehead, then pulled him down to rest on his shoulder. "Rest, John. Just remember, it's a marathon, not a sprint."

"I might need new trainers." John whispered.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow." Sherlock switched off the light and pressed a kiss to John's hair as he fell asleep. "I love you too, John Watson."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more shopping... just fluff

"Nope."

"Too fluffy."

"Not fluffy enough."

"Just too -"

"No."

"Uh-uh..."

Rosie looked at herself in the mirrors that captured every angle, each and every flaw seemed to be magnified, and let out a growl. "It's impossible, Papa."

"We'll find your dress, Rosie. We've only been to -"

"Five shops, Papa. Five." 

"And there are at least fifteen more in London alone, maybe we need to go to a non-Bridal shop?"

Rosie popped her head around the curtain of her fitting room and grinned at him."You are a genius, Papa. There's a vintage place that Lil' and I love - why didn't I think of that?"

John rolled his eyes at her and looked down at his phone. "It's past tea time. Let's get your Da and go to that new place - "

"The one with the cream puffs as big as well, my hand?" Rosie's eyes lit up for the first time all day.

"Exactly." John grinned at her.

"I shouldn't -" 

"Rosie Watson-Holmes."

Rosie finished dressing and pulled back the curtain. "I know, Papa. I'm not going to stop eating to fit into a dress that I will wear for a few hours. I just wish -"

"Rosie -"

"Let's go get Da, I've seen his eyes as we pass that bakery, he's as bad as Uncle Myc, he just hides it better."

"He doesn't hide it all that well," John snorted.

"No, he doesn't does he? He just thinks he does." Rosie laughed and took her father's arm. "Sorry it's taking so long."

"I don't mind," John mumbled under his breath, then grinned apologetically to the sales ladies who sighed at the neatly discarded dresses waiting for them. "I don't mind at all, Rosie."

 

Sherlock looked up from his violin at Rosie's entrance. "No luck?"

"Not yet. Did you have your tea, Da?"

Sherlock thought for a moment before picking up his phone to check the time. "No - I've been working since - well - I think I skipped breakfast too."

Rosie rolled her eyes, and grabbed his coat from its hook. "Come on, we're going to try that bakery."

"The one with the cream puffs as big as your hand?" His eyes glittered at her, then as she nodded, carefully laid his violin and bow down on the desk, and quickly crossed the room. Rosie helped him into his coat, then kissed his cheek. "What's that for?"

"Dunno, I guess, today, I just realised again how lucky I am, to have you and Papa as my parents. Come on, Papa's waiting for us."

Sherlock nodded and kissed her forehead, then took her hand. "We are the lucky ones, Ro. So very lucky."

"Da..."

"Don't worry - I won't embarrass you until your wedding day..."

"Da..."

"Joking, Ro. Last one down..."

"Da!" She shook her head as she watched him glide down the stairs, the well-worn coat flying behind him, and she paused to wonder at his ability to defeat time. At least it seemed that way, most days.

"Ro, let's go!" She heard him bellow from the street.

"I'm coming, hold yer horses!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some fluff

Sherlock sat back in his chair and sighed into his half finished cup of tea, then looked over at Rosie. 

"It's just - it shouldn't be this hard."

"To find a dress?"

Rosie ran her fingers through her hair. "Everything. I thought it would be small, you know, you and Papa, and Uncle Myc and Aunt Alicia, and Greg and Molly, and Mrs. H, and Sally, but then Lily thought about our friends from school, and work, and it became -"

"Overwhelming?"

"Out of control." She picked at the remains of her scone, and sighed. "I don't care about the cost, I put some money away, I just didn't want it to become, well, complicated."

Sherlock nodded, and placed his cup down carefully. "Most things in life are. But, it is your day. Yours and Lily's. You can be selfish, Ro. Get the dress you love, have the ceremony you want, small, medium or insane, and then have a reception, or don't. If you are fortunate, you will only do this once. The day of your wedding... should be a day that you remember fondly, some people think of it as the best day of their lives; I think it should be simply the beginning of something. You and Lily have known each other more then half your lives, and you think you know everything about her, and vice versa. I've known your father for years, loved him all that time, and I don't know everything yet - I'm still learning about him, and I hope I can still surprise him at times, even now. Point I'm making is, or trying to make is, your wedding seems like the most important thing in the world at the moment, but, the event is not as important as the person you will be spending the rest of your life with. And of course, you. Do what you want, Ro." He picked up his cup again, then looked up to see both John and Rosie gazing at him in astonishment.

"What?"

John dropped into his seat and took the cup from Sherlock's hands, and put it down on the table, then laid his hands on Sherlock's face and kissed his forehead. "You have never, ever, ceased to surprise me, love. Every day, every single day, I learn something new about you."

"And what have you learned today, John?" Sherlock whispered quietly.

"That you can eat a ridiculous amount of baked goods, and that underneath all that rationality, that you are the more romantic of the two of us."

"It's just logical, John."

"I know." 

The table fell silent for a few minutes, then Rosie got to her feet and kissed both her fathers, then nodded. "I'm going to buy Lily one of those insane eclairs, and then I'm going home. Tomorrow, I'll get her to help me find the dress - no offense, Papa."

"None taken, Rosie."

"Da."

"Go - we'll be here, or at the flat when you need us. Take her a couple of those macaroons too -"

Rosie nodded. "Yeah, she does have a thing for coconut - so weird..."

"Can't help who we love, Ro."

"No, I guess not." She laughed and went back into the bakery.

 

"If you ever -"

"John."

"Just tell me."

Sherlock squinted at him, then put on his specs, studying John's face for a moment, then closed his eyes. "It would just be us. We wouldn't have anyone else around. No witnesses. No whatever they call 'em - clergy or whatever. On a spring morning, it would probably be raining, but that gentle rain, not nasty, cold London rain, we'd be somewhere outside, flowers - and we wouldn't even have to say anything, because we've already said everything. That's why we don't need to, John, because we know. Rosie and Lily know too, but they want the party, they want to dress it up, put a bow on it, and I'm glad we live in a time when they can do that, and on their day, I will be there with bells on, or whatever they want me to wear. But, the day we met, John, even though we couldn't see it, or say it - and yes, it took us so very long to get there, we knew. And you know how I feel about parties."

John nodded. "Let's go back to the flat, hmm?"

"John."

"No, you're right. I just wish we had a day when I could celebrate you, us."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "John. You already do that, every single day, by choosing to be by my side. But if it's that important to you, choose a day, and -"

"Today."

"Today it is."

John moved closer to Sherlock and pushed his specs into his silver curls, then kissed him lightly, and leaned into his chest. Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and whispered into his ear, "it's not so complicated, is it?"

"No, love, it's very simple. Home?"

"Home. Come, Olive."

Olive looked up at them and seemed to shrug, but got up from her place next to Sherlock's chair and waited for them patiently. "She's smarter than all of us put together," John muttered as he helped Sherlock to his feet.

"Yes, yes, she is."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie and Uncle Myc

"Rosie?"

"Uncle Myc." She offered him her hand, as she knew how he was about hugs, and he took it gently, then invited her in. 

"Everyone all right?"

"Yes, of course. Oh. I should have called ahead. They are fine. I don't know if they told you, but Lily and I are getting married."

Mycroft shook his head, then offered her a smile. "Excellent news, Rosie. I'm very pleased for you. Alicia is at work, she still goes in, essentially in an emeritus position, though she is indispensable, unlike myself..."

"It is you I wanted to consult."

"Consult?" Mycroft sat up straighter and leaned closer to her.

"Well, I seem to recall that you always knew where the best cake places were, my birthday was never complete without a birthday cake from you."

"Ah... you need assistance with -"

"Our wedding cake. The wedding itself will be small; Da and Papa, Greg and Molly, Mrs. H, Sally and of course you and Alicia -"

Mycroft blinked at her and she went on.

"But, the reception, I'm afraid, Lily and I have suddenly realised we have more friends and acquaintances, colleagues, you understand, who might have feathers ruffled if they are not invited -"

"Yes, yes, of course, I understand all too well - there once was a treaty that was nearly broken -" He stopped and shook his head. "But you don't want to hear about that."

"Of course I do, Uncle Myc."

"Really?"

Rosie nodded and took his hand. "Tell me."

They were well into the second hour of stories when Alicia arrived home. "Rosie, dear, how lovely to see you. Let me get the kettle on - once he gets started, it's hard to stop him."

Rosie smiled at her and Mycroft patted her hand gently. "You wanted to talk about wedding cakes. Not my old back room gossip, I spent too many years with politicians and dictators - not enough time seeing you. I regret that, my dear, very much."

"I do too, Uncle Myc."

"Now, cake. I am a bit of an expert... how many people are you expecting, Rosie?"

"We're thinking 50-100, but it's early days yet, we are still putting our list together, just want to be prepared."

"Yes, yes, of course." Mycroft looked into Rosie's eyes for a moment, and saw her as she had been, the little girl who hugged his knees once upon a time. He cleared his throat and called out to Alicia, "Allie, there was that place, that did the wedding for Lord - oh, whatsisname - tedious young man with the manners of a mule - we had to go because..."

"His father once did you a favour back in the dark ages," Alicia replied, as she walked back into the room with a full tea service.

"Yes, of course. They had a lovely cake, but a bit traditional, I am guessing you want something a little more -"

"Unique?" Alicia suggested as she poured out the tea.

"Unique, yes. That was the word I was looking for. It is early in the day still, Rosie, after tea, we could go investigate the bakeries, and if we don't find just the thing -"

Rosie nodded and leaned over to kiss Mycroft's cheek. "I'd like that very much, Uncle Myc."

 

"Myc?" 

"Sherlock. Rosie came to tea today. She asked for assistance with their wedding cake. I assume you suggested -"

"No, she thought of you on her own, Mycroft. Rosie has fond memories of you, you think too little of what you have given her over the years, brother mine."

There was silence on the other end, then Mycroft cleared his throat. "She is remarkable, Sherlock, you and John raised her well."

"Did you find a cake, yet?"

"Yes, two, in fact. I'm not sure I will ever look at cake the same way again."

Sherlock laughed and replied. "I can imagine. Thank you, Myc."

"What for?"

"For being there for her."

"I did very little, Sherlock. The odd birthday or Christmas gift -"

"I know how much you love her, Myc, she has always known how much you love her, and that is a gift in itself, Mycroft."

"Tell John -"

"I will. Good night, Myc."

"Sherlock."

 

Thank you, Ro. - Da

For what? - Ro

Asking your Uncle Myc to help with your cake, it meant a great deal to him. - Da

We had a lovely day, and he does know cake. :) - Ro

Yes, yes, he does. Night, Ro. - Da

Love you, Da. - Ro

Love you, Ro. - Da


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some silliness and a bit of angst.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?"

"You've been banging on your laptop for a long time now - thought we might -"

"Can't find it."

"What?"

"The video for the serviettes. I know it was some time ago -"

"Over twenty years ago, love." John bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh.

Sherlock turned and looked up at him. "It has been that long, hasn't it?"

"Yes. I was thinking we could get some lunch?"

"I knew I should have bookmarked them."

"Lunch?"

"Right. There must be a website for this kind of thing."

"Let's go get food, and then -"

"Or a book..."

"Sherlock."

"Hmm? Is it really time for lunch?"

"Going on one in the afternoon."

Sherlock sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry." He closed his laptop and slowly got to his feet. "I just don't want to let them down."

"How could you do that?" John asked quietly. "You've always been there for them, they just want you to be there, they don't expect anything else from you. I do know -"

"You know what, precisely?"

"How this must feel -"

"John. I thought we were done talking about this."

"We haven't really, not once."

Sherlock sighed and knew he wasn't going to get out of talking about it this time. He walked over to the window and looked out onto Baker Street, the lunch time traffic at full tilt. "Back then, I was - it was important for me - I wanted to do everything I could to make you happy, and it was the only thing I could think to do, and it kept me from thinking - or feeling too much about everything. I just wanted it to be perfect, and I didn't want to mess it up for you. I had already hurt you too much, and I thought if I got that one day right, it would make up for everything I had done. If you were happy, with Mary - then that was all that mattered." He leaned against the window and closed his eyes, and let out a sigh as John wrapped his arms around him and held on tightly.

"I never apologised."

"Don't. Please."

"I should have known, Sherlock, I should have been able to see how you felt. I should have been able to tell you, but -"

"John."

"I was afraid. Afraid you would leave me again. I let you - I married her in front of you - had you - made you stand by my side when I married her. I knew - even as I was doing it. I don't even know how you forgave me."

"Forgive you?"

"What I put you through. What we put you through - I almost lost you again, more than once and it was my fault."

"John." Sherlock turned in his arms and placed his trembling hands on John's face. "Please. We both made so many mistakes, and yet, we are here, together, after all this time. I never thought, I never believed I'd have a family, never thought I deserved to have a family, but you and Rosie let me, the day you moved back here, with her, the day I knew you trusted me enough to be her family, your family, my life began again. I need you to believe that. You and Rosie have made my life - you still don't know, after all this time? There are whole movies and ridiculously corny songs, mostly from the seventies written about moments like this, and none of them are really about us, you know that, don't you?" He kissed John's forehead lightly and whispered, "you said something about lunch, I am getting a bit peckish."

"Can't have that, can we," John mumbled back into Sherlock's shoulder.

"Dim sum?"

John nodded, then looked up into Sherlock's sparkling eyes. "I -"

"Yeah, I know. I do, John. Come on, let's go eat, and then I have to learn how to do those swans... there has to be a tutorial somewhere online..."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this verse, Lady Smallwood is closer to Mycroft's age, though still a bit older. ;)

"Why did you marry me?" Mycroft asked quietly.

Alicia rolled over and raised a neutral eyebrow at him. "Good morning to you, too. Tea?"

"Seriously."

"Seriously? Because you asked and I had nothing else on my schedule that week."

"Allie."

"What's all this?" She searched his eyes, then shook her head. "The cake tasting." She sat up and glared at him. "Don't you know? After - well, after Magnussen, after all that happened - honestly, you gave me peace - stop. Let me finish. Even before. I knew he married me for my money and my position. When you came to me after what happened at Sherrinford, needing me, because you trusted me, and had some obvious affection for me, and I was able to - I don't know, I seemed to be the person you needed then, and then you stayed, or I stayed, and you became, well, more important than anyone, anything else, and I realised that you loved me, it became far too easy for me to fall in love with you, and I think I always had a bit of I don't know -"

"A thing for me?" A slow smile touched his lips for a brief moment.

She brushed a kiss against his cheek and nodded."Quite so. For the longest time, I suppose, I knew there was something under all that stoic arrogance, someone who could love deeply- I knew because of how you love your brother. Yes, I knew, when he was gone, I knew how much it hurt you that you couldn't step in and help him until you had no choice. You were essentially as you always were, but I could see it in your eyes."

"No one was meant to see."

"I know, but I knew you, and I wish I could have helped you then."

"You did. All those late night dinners that were delivered. I knew it was you, but I didn't want to - take advantage, those years - I deserved to be alone."

"No one deserves to be alone. So many times, I wanted to ask you out for a drink, or dinner, but I knew you weren't ready, I had to wait for you to come to me. I knew one day you would." She sighed as his eyes began to fill and he tried to roll away from her. "I married you because you are the most infuriating, intriguing, brilliant, loving man I've ever known, and my calendar was open that weekend."

Mycroft stopped moving and faced her again. "I'm so very fortunate that it was. Sorry, I'm just feeling a bit -"

"Sorry for yourself? Why don't we get dressed, pick up a few newspapers and growl at the world over tea? That always makes you feel a bit better."

"I knew I loved you for a reason."

"Hmmm... hopefully for more than one."

"Just one of many, my dear."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluffy bit...

"No luck, still?" John asked as Sherlock fell into bed with a grumble.

"Found a book. It was on that bookcase that I have to use the ladder for. Not as good as a video..." His words faded into a heavy silence and John put his book down, drawing him gently into his arms.

"It's nothing."

"It's just..."

"I still remember when she was born, she was so tiny, John. I could hold her in one of my hands. And now..."

John kissed his curls and held him, as he felt him melt against him.

"When did I get old, John?"

"You'll never be old, love."

"John - that's preposterous."

John sighed as Sherlock sat up with a groan and looked into his eyes. He tucked an overlong curl behind an ear and traced his lips with a single finger. "To me, you'll always be the man I met, flying across the rooftops, fearless, so completely fearless, and so beautiful. You are still those things to me. But, I love you even more now, for who you have become - the fact that you are still here at all, it sometimes takes me a moment to remember that some mornings, until I feel your breath against my shoulder - it still - you still - you will always be my miracle."

"I don't believe in -" Sherlock's voice caught and he kissed John's finger tip. "And you have always been mine, John."

 

"Lil'?" Rosie pushed open their flat door and dropped the bags on the kitchen table. "Love?"

She put the milk and ice cream away, then slipped out of her shoes and padded lightly into their bedroom. "Lily. I got that ice cream you like - hey, talk to me?"

"Why?"

"Why, what?" Rosie knelt on their bed and waited.

"Is it because you are just accustomed to me? I've just always been there? Or what? I was looking at some of the snaps your parents have taken - Sherlock has a Facebook page just to store everything, and all of a sudden I started to think of why I love you, and I have this long, ridiculous list, and I wondered if you have one. I know it seems petty, but I - I dunno, Ro - should I have let things be as they were? We were great before, as we were. I mean, your parents - they managed just fine together without getting married..."

"1. I love that her name is a flower like mine.  
2\. I love her crooked smile.  
3\. I love her toughness.  
5\. I love her quiet.  
6\. I love that she knows me so well.  
7\. I love that she is different from me.  
8...."

"How many are there?"

Rosie rolled her eyes and counted quietly to herself. "I'm at 129 - no, 130, now. I have a book. Started it the day I met you. It's in a box under the bed, if you want to read it."

"Seriously?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Lily rolled over and sniffed, then wiped her eyes. "Sorry."

"I have grown accustomed to you being with me. It's not a bad thing. When I was younger, I wished my parents had known each other when they were younger, so they wouldn't have been so lonely when they were kids. I know, I mean, from Uncle Myc, and things they would say when they didn't think I was listening, but I have come to understand, that without all that had come before, even as hard as it was, it was how they ended up as they are now. And I don't think either of them would change what they have now. We are what we are, Lil'."

"Love you, Ro."

Rosie nodded and kissed her lightly. "I love you, too, Lil'." She laid down next to her and kissed away the remaining tears that fell, and arranged them so she spooned around her, wrapping her in her arms. "So, so much."

 

Love you, Papa. - Ro

Love you, too, Rosie. Are you okay? - Papa

I'm fine, we're fine. Just curious, do you have a list? - Ro

A list? - Papa

Of why you love Da. - Ro

Yeah, I do, actually. - Papa

Have you ever told him? - Ro

He's never really asked, not that I can remember. Why? - Papa

It doesn't matter. Do you think he has one about you? - Ro

Rosie? - Papa

Lily wanted to know why I love her. - Ro

Ah. - Papa

Ah? - Ro

It's normal, sweetheart. - Papa

Okay. 'Night. - Ro

'Night, Rosie. - Papa

 

"What is it, are they okay?" Sherlock mumbled against John's chest.

"A bit of cold feet, dunno. Just curious. Do you have a list?"

"Of why I love you?"

"Uhmhmm."

"Yeah, I started writing it down, hmm, I think the second day you were here - there's a row of little books - why?"

"No reason, go back to sleep. 1. His smile. 2. The way he looks at me when he doesn't think I'm paying attention..."


	11. Chapter 11

John woke up alone, and looked at his phone. Eleven in the morning. Damn. He slowly got out of bed, used the loo, then wrapped his robe around himself and went in search of Sherlock.

"Morning. Didn't want to wake you. There's tea in the kitchen." Sherlock flashed him a smile from the ladder.

"What are you doing up there?"

"Looking for the books."

"The books?"

"You asked me last night if I had a list."

"Oh." John went into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, then dropped carefully into his chair. 

"The first book." He added a bit sheepishly as he placed it into John's lap, then went back up the ladder, "it's a bit ratty, I carried it around with me - so it got a bit damp and crumpled."

John looked down at the tiny book, took a sip of tea, then put his cup aside. "I don't need to -"

"Please. I want you to know. I know you've always wondered."

"I -"

"John." Sherlock climbed down again holding several more volumes, then sat down in his chair, placing the books on the table next to him, then pulling his knees up gingerly and rested his chin on them. "You never quite understood why I did the things I did for you. As I think back, what I did was selfish, I was doing those things to make you safe, or happy, or what I thought would make you safe or happy. It was for me, I believed if I kept - if you were okay, it didn't really matter -"

"Sherlock."

"I did what I did, because I loved you, but I didn't know how to tell you that, I didn't really understand it, until I was on the roof, and I thought if I told you then, it would - it wasn't the right time, and then, when I got back -"

"Please -" John looked down at the fragile book in his hands. "I don't, I didn't -"

Sherlock moved from his chair to kneel in front of John. "You do. I want you to read it, and know - I'm going to take Olive for a walk, I'll bring you back some lunch. Dumplings?"

John nodded and lifted his eyes to look into Sherlock's - still as bright as they were the day they met. Sherlock got to his feet, and leaned over him to kiss his hair. "I'll be back soon. Olive, let's go." Olive gave John a look, but got to her feet and followed Sherlock out of the flat. John sighed then gingerly opened the book to the first page.

 

01\. 31. 10

Stubborn. He's the most stubborn person I've ever met, other than myself, of course. Persistent, well, I suppose that's nearly stubbornness, isn't it? Persistence is a better word for it. 

Eyes. The darkest blue I've ever seen, and on the rare occasions he smiles at me, the gold bits glow, and it is all I can do not to kiss him. Kiss. Why kiss? He's the only person I've ever wanted to kiss.

 

John stopped as he felt his left hand tremble slightly. "Bloody hell."

 

Intelligent. He knows when to step in, when people are just too much, and I need air. How does he know? How does he already know me better than I know myself? And why do I need him, I've never needed anyone before, not in the ways - why can't I just say the words? Why? Because he'd leave, and I can't lose him. Selfish. Me, not him. He deserves better than me. 

 

The next words were blurred from water damage, rain - probably. 

02.01. 10

I keep wondering why he stays, how he puts up with me. I've tried so hard - no - I'm torn between - 

 

John traced the words with a tremulous finger and sighed. He should have, could have so easily - stop. Just read.

 

I know I should let him go, this can't last, I don't know how to do this. Already. 

 

02\. 02. 10

His smile. Last night, he smiled at me, like the first night, after we returned from chasing down the cab. He has no idea. What I would do to protect him, and yet, I feel he is in danger because of me, I am risking too much - milk. I need to buy milk today.

 

John closed his eyes and tried to remember. Yeah, he did buy milk that day, he remembered because he had bought too much milk, it filled the fridge. It was the morning after the nightmares had started up again. He had played his violin all night, hadn't slept, then had gone out to buy milk and bread for toast, and the jam, the strawberry jam. He had seen, had known, had he known even then? John blinked and looked out the window, the weather was changing again, the clouds were darkening, the rain was coming soon. He closed the book and laid it aside then got up and walked to the window. He saw Sherlock and Olive waiting across the street, Sherlock was saying something to her, then he looked up and saw John, and he smiled as he lifted the bag from their dumpling place. John lifted his hand, and wondered how much love one heart could hold. Ridiculous. He knew, of course he knew, love wasn't something that was stored somewhere, it simply was, but he swore his love grew as he heard the familiar steps climb the seventeen stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> again with a bit angsty fluff... I think it's the weather?

They sat across from one another at the kitchen table, taking their time over the dumplings, far more than the two of them could ever eat, the owner always rolled her eyes at John, when he picked up their order, she didn't think he was taking care of Sherlock well enough. And he hadn't. He knew, had known, always, hadn't he? He looked up to see Sherlock smiling at him. Damn. How well he knows me.

"If I had told you then, can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't have run for the hills? If I had, I don't know, taken you up on your offer at Angelo's that night - do you truly believe that we would still be here today?"

John shook his head. "No." He reached out as if to pick up one last dumpling from the carton, then changed his mind. "I - we - would have self-destructed. I know that. I do. I was still so angry, and you - god, back then, you were a supernova, you were too bright, too hot - and yet, you still wrote all those words down about me. You still saw me, me, as I was then, and you - you kept rescuing me. I don't just mean on cases, I mean, you let me care for you, which made me care for myself in a way I hadn't in years. I felt responsible for you. Not like a bodyguard, but as a friend, which I know sounds ridiculous. I didn't have friends, then. There were people I knew, or talked with at the pub, co-workers - colleagues... I kept thinking one day you'd be gone, and one day you were. And it was my fault."

"John. It -"

"Don't tell me it was all just arrogance on your part. I should have seen, you were so different in those last weeks, that night -"

"You still remember. John, it was so long ago."

John pushed the cartons aside and reached for Sherlock's hands. He sighed as Sherlock placed his hands into his and closed his eyes."You once told me that you have never deleted anything about me. I know you think, or back then, you thought that I - I never forgot anything about you, not a single thing, that's what made it so much harder when you came back, you were exactly how I remembered you, you hadn't changed, and yet - I should have seen, Sherlock, I should have been able to see how - I had known what - how is it possible we've never talked about this before, in all these years?"

Sherlock shrugged and looked at how their hands fit so well together, they shouldn't, but they had always managed to. "It was easier not to? There was always the next crisis, and then, Rosie was born, then when Mary - and I was just so ridiculously grateful that you were here, it took me so long before I stopped being surprised to find you still next to me when I woke up each morning. We seemed to have arrived at a point where the past stopped mattering, and we just were, and I found I could finally breathe. I could be Ro's Papa, and your partner, I could love you, and you loved me, and I stopped wondering why and how. It was just a fact. Like the solar system. It seemed like an act of folly to question it, to define it. I wanted you to know that I thought of you, how I thought of you, back then. If I had been able to make a record of my time away, it would have been a record of how I missed you, not of where I had been or what I had to do, or even what I had endured when I was gone, and so many times, when I thought - my last thoughts - were of you, always of you, John. And that alone was what got me through, to be able to come home, even though I knew there was the chance you had gone on with your life, it was what I wanted. I tried to make you hate me - I wanted to be a memory you could easily replace if I didn't make it back. Damn. This is why - why I - " His words faded as he pushed away from the table then stood up and walked over to where John still sat, tears running down his face. Sherlock knelt carefully in front of him and cleared his throat. "John. Please, look at me?"

John turned and looked down at the man in front of him. "Number three, his heart, his brilliant heart. I know - your heart has nothing to do with how you love me, it's just a muscle, I know - but you have the biggest and most forgiving heart of anyone I've ever known, Sherlock. Is there an expiration date for apologies?"

Sherlock shook his head. 

"Please? Please forgive me for ever doubting you, all those times, when I believed, when I thought, when -" John stood up, then helped Sherlock to his feet. "All those times I hurt you, please forgive me?"

Sherlock pulled John into his arms and nodded, then kissed his hair. "I forgave you long ago, John. So very long ago, you - I don't have the right words, I don't think the words have even been invented yet that can tell you - but you, are my reason, my light - you are necessary in ways I still, even now, can't explain to myself. You are nothing more or less than my life, John. Damn. Is that excessive? I've always been a bit over the top -"

John snorted against Sherlock's chest, then started to laugh until tears of laughter welled up in his eyes. "Just the tiniest bit, love."

"Bed? I'll clean up in the morning, promise."

"Go - I'll clean up - you know Olive -"

"Right. You - we're okay, aren't we, John?"

John blinked at him and nodded, then kissed his chest, and turned him in the direction of their bedroom. "Go. I'm right behind you."

"I do -"

"Yeah, me too, love." He watched as Sherlock left the kitchen, then sighed at Olive who was waiting under the table. "I know - nothing we can do about him, is there? Except love him. It's that simple, isn't it?" Olive raised an eyebrow at him as if she wondered what had taken him so long, then got up and waddled off to bed.


	13. Chapter 13

"Dress."

"Dress. Today's the day." Rosie grinned at Lily, and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the vintage clothing shop.

"Ladies?"

"Need a dress, Lu."

"Lemme see the rings, show me."

Rosie and Lily put their hands out and she nodded, then kissed them both on the cheeks. "'Bout time, ladies, Ro - I have your dress. It was brought in a while back, but I saw it, and I knew if you two ever got your collective bs together, it was meant to be yours. Lil - tux, yes? Have the hat you need, you were going to wear a top hat, of course?"

"Of course." Lily wrapped her arm around Rosie's waist and pulled her close. "Gotta have the top hat."

 

"Ta-da."

John looked up over his specs at Sherlock sitting next to the coffee table, sitting in the same spot, how was that even possible, he wondered to himself, as he had twenty-something years ago, but this time, was surrounded by - "What do you call it?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him. "It?"

"You know - there's names for groups of animals - what do you call a group of swans?"

"Oh. Hmm, if in flight then they are a wedge or a flight, but generally speaking, they are just a - John?"

"Sorry. I was just remembering- " He laid his book down and took his specs off, then shook his head, as if he could shake the memory away, and got up from his chair. 

"They aren't as good as I'd like them to be." Sherlock muttered as he turned away. "In a couple weeks, I'll -"

John dropped to the floor behind him and wrapped his legs and arms around him, holding on tightly.

"A bevy of swans, John." He let his head fall forward until he rested on his arms on the table. "I should have known when she - if it had been us - damn. I should have known, John. Who chooses a bloody opera house? Admittedly, it is more geometrically, I don't know - but it's a building, John. It was my fault. I should have -"

John pressed his face against his back and held him tighter when he felt Sherlock tremble in his arms. "No."

"If I had -"

"Sherlock."

"Damn it." He took a breath and whispered, "just don't let me go, John."

"No, I won't."

 

"We found it!" Rosie and Lily burst through the door. "Bloody hell, that's a lot of swans."

"Bevy, it's called a bevy - if they had been flying, it would be a flight," Lily muttered to herself, as she quietly tiptoed towards the two men still sitting next to the coffee table. "Sleeping, let's leave the bags and go get dinner, bring it back here, yeah?"

Rosie nodded as she dropped the bags on the couch. She wondered, not for the first time, at the sacrifices of the two men, who sat there together, the men who had given her everything. "Ro?"

"Yeah." She took Lily's hand and held on tightly. "Dim sum, we always used to get dim sum on Fridays, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, Ro. There were weeks when I lived for Friday nights. Just to be around people who loved each other as they did, as they do, no matter what, Ro. How they love you, god, my parents could have taken lessons from them. Come on, let's let them rest." Rosie nodded and they left the flat in silence, locking the door behind them.

 

"God - how long did we sleep?" John asked as he yawned against Sherlock's shoulder.

"Long enough for my legs to fall asleep," Sherlock grumbled, then rubbed his eyes. He looked over at the couch and smiled. "They found the dress."

John followed his glance and kissed his cheek. "Just took a bit of time."

"And patience." Sherlock groaned as he got to his feet, pulling John up with him.

"Loads of patience, and luck." John sighed against Sherlock's chest, then took a breath in. "Dim sum. It's Friday night."

"Come on sleepyheads, dinner is still hot." Rosie grinned at them from the kitchen. "Nice bevy of swans, Sherlock," Lily added as she put bottles of beer on the table.

"I'll get better at them, just need a bit of practice." Sherlock smiled back at her. "Did you remember the prawns?"

Rosie rolled her eyes but nodded. "Of course, I remembered the prawns."

"Found the dress then?" John asked quietly as he took his seat at the kitchen table.

"Yeah, Lu had been saving a dress for me, you were right, Papa." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Happens every once in a while." John smiled over at her, then glanced up into Sherlock's eyes. "Every once in a while."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some fluff...

"I want you to see the dress," Rosie said after the last carton was finally emptied.

"Ro -" Sherlock and John started together.

"I love it, and Lil' - well, let's just say she loves it too, so I'm pretty sure it's 'it', but -"

"If you love it, and Lily loves it -" Sherlock began, then stopped as he saw the look on her face, and knew she was going to have her way.

"Da, please? Lil', I'll need your help." Rosie left the kitchen, and walked into her old bedroom.

"Right. I'll get the bags. You two, come sit down on the couch. It's perfect, she's just nervous what you two will think about it. It matters, you know, what you two think."

John watched Lily walk into the bedroom, then he closed his eyes as Sherlock wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "Why do I feel old all of a sudden?" 

Sherlock turned his head and pressed his lips into John's hair and said nothing, and they waited in silence.

 

"Tell me - if it's too much, or not enough, you - what? You hate it."

John was the first to move. He shook his head, then got up from the couch and took her carefully into his arms. "No. You look absolutely stunning, Rosie."

"Da?"

"Sorry, Ro." Sherlock got up slowly from the couch, started to walk over to her, then stopped as she moved towards him, and studied his face.

"Da - don't. Don't cry, Da. Hell. I didn't mean to -" She stood in front of him and wiped the tears away from his face. "I remember when you used to do that for me."

Sherlock bit his lip, then cleared his throat, and spoke in a hush, "you never cried much, Ro. I didn't, still don't have that much experience with babies, or children, but you seemed to be an unusually content child. Even when you fell and got hurt - you would get up and dust yourself off and go back to playing. You always seemed to know what you wanted, who you were. Even as a baby, I would spend hours holding you, and you would look up at me, and smile at me, then wrap your tiny fingers around one of mine, and I knew at that moment that life was good. There were times in my life when I wasn't so sure. It's a beautiful dress, Ro, but no more beautiful than the woman wearing it."

"Da." Rosie put her hand to her mouth and shook her head at him, and he knew rare tears were about to fall.

"Now, Ro, you don't want to get the dress wet, hmm? Go change, hmm, so I can give you a real hug, and we can have a proper cry?"

Rosie reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, then ran from the room.

Sherlock rubbed his eyes and looked over at John. "Do you remember her first solo recital?"

John nodded and smiled at him.

"She was so nervous, but didn't say anything. I knew, because - well, I remembered how it was for me, but I wasn't sure if I should say anything to her, so I didn't. The whole week leading up to it, and right before she got dressed she came over to me - I was reading something, trying not to be in her way - she came over to my chair and kissed my cheek, and she whispered -

"Thank you, Da."

"Yep. Just like that, and I knew you weren't nervous any more."

"It was because you let me think my way out on my own, like you always had. I know how hard it was for you, you want things to be easier for me, than they were for you, you and Papa were always here for me, and most of the time that was enough. Just knowing you were there, are still here, now. I keep trying to find a way to thank you -"

"I don't need -"

Rosie grinned up at him and nodded. "I know. You don't know, but I remember those days, all those days when I knew how hard it was for you -"

"Ro -"

"Let me finish, please. I need you to know."

Sherlock met John's eyes and shook his head, but once again looked down into Rosie's determined eyes and nodded.

"You always smiled for me, even on those days when I knew everything hurt, you would still read to me, comb out my hair, play your violin for me, you were still there. When it would have been easier not to be. I learned so much from you, Da." She smiled at him again, and taking his hand, led him to the couch and helped him to sit down. "I am who I am because of Papa, and my Mum, and because of you. I learned what love and strength and courage mean from you, Da. I thought about waiting to tell you all this at the reception, but, I didn't want to embarrass you in front of all those people, I know how you get when people say things to you like that - you get all -"

"Grumbly?" Sherlock offered quietly as a small smile glittered over his features.

Rosie nodded, and took his hand in hers. "I know you, so well, and I know you question yourself all the time, whether you have done enough good in your life, I know that. You have always been honest with me, even when it was difficult, kind to me on your worst days, and I have always known that you love me, and my Papa with everything you have, everything you are, and if that isn't enough, I don't know what is. From you, I have learned that I am enough as I am, and whenever I had a doubt about that, you remind me that I grew up surrounded by love, such love that most people don't get to see ever in their lives." She watched his eyes fill up and she put her arms around him and held him tightly. "I love you, Da."

"I love you, Ro. So very much." He kissed her hair and cleared his throat. "I don't know about you, but I could use -"

"Some ice cream?"

Sherlock nodded and caught John's gaze again.

"Just so happens -"

"Chocolate chocolate chip?"

"What else?"

"You do know me, don't you, Ro?" Sherlock whispered gently, then got to his feet and walked into the kitchen. "Did you get -"

"Sprinkles and whipped cream? Of course." Rosie laughed then got up and walked over to John and hugged him tightly. "I'll embarrass you later, Papa."

"Oh, good." John grinned at her, then turned to watch Sherlock in the kitchen. "You don't know, what it means to him-"

Rosie shook her head. "I do, Papa. I just hope he's always known." 

"Yes, I think he has, Rosie, but it never hurts to hear it."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and more fluff....

"Papa?"

"Rosie. Didn't hear you come in." He looked up from the newspaper, and watched as she perched on Sherlock's chair.

"Da?"

"Out - an errand, he said." John shrugged and put his paper aside, then waited for her to ask her question.

"So, here's the thing. Lil' and I want to do the wedding, the ceremony part here. If you think it's - if it's too much, or if you think it will - if Da - I mean, he's, you're the reasons we want to have it here, it's the place we've both felt safest, happiest in - and it..."

"Of course, Rosie, nothing would make us happier." John smiled at her and braced himself as she launched herself from Sherlock's chair, and into his arms, giving him a brief hug, then was up again, heading towards the door. 

"Thank you, Papa, gotta go tell Lil' and oh, yeah, the reception is at Angelo's - well, it will be once I ask him." Rosie turned from the doorway and blew him a kiss. "Love you, Papa."

"Love you, too, Rosie." John shook his head and picked up his paper again, then sighed as he put it down again, wondering why he bothered reading it every day.

"Just saw Ro', she gave me a huge hug and - what is it, John?"

"Just reading the paper."

"Why on earth do you still do that?" Sherlock muttered and dropped carefully on one knee in front of John.

"Sherlock?"

"My errand. I, uhm, hmm... I still haven't changed my mind about us doing the whole 'wedding bit' and this isn't really a - 'wedding ring', but, I, saw this ring in the window of an antique shop, and I had to get it for you, it wasn't quite your size, so he had to do a little work on it -"

"How do you know my - never mind."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, then pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. "I know when you - your ring meant something when you and Mary were together. I know you kept both of them - for Rosie - or whatever reason, I - hmm... I know I promised not to promise you anything ever again, but -" He opened the box and took a deep breath, and slowly let it out again. "The owner of the shop said that - the owner of this ring - he never married his sweetheart - he wore it on a chain for forty years, sold it to the owner only after he promised it would go to the right person. He's had it in his shop for twenty years, John. I'd never gone past there until last week, and it - I know it looks like an ordinary band, but if you look at the inside of it, it says -" He took the ring out of the box and placed it carefully in John's hand.

"'Forever, my heart -" John squinted at the ring and looked up into Sherlock's eyes.

" - is yours.' I didn't even know until the owner showed it to me, then he told me the history of the ring, and I knew it belonged to you." 

John placed it in Sherlock's hand and put out his left hand. "Please?"

Sherlock nodded, and carefully slid the ring on John's hand, then kissed his knuckles. "I do, my heart -"

"I know, love. Rosie was here to ask our permission to have the wedding here."

Sherlock stared into John's eyes, then nodded again. "And you told her yes, of course."

John looked down at his ring, then back into Sherlock's eyes. "Of course."

"Good. And Angelo's after, I suppose."

"Obviously." John grinned, then moved closer and laid his hands on Sherlock's face, pulling him into a gentle kiss. "And mine belongs to you, love, always."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This bit is something I think this Sherlock would do, if you are very anti-Mary, you might want to skip this... it's just Sherlock talking to Mary, with a bit of Rosie at the end... this isn't a very plotty series, so you won't miss anything... ;)

"Hullo, Mary." He sat down in front of the small elegant stone, so different from the monolith that his own monument had been. "I know I haven't visited for a long time. I've been a bit busy the last few years." He sat still, as if he could hear her snort of laughter if he listened hard enough.

"She has your smile, and your sense of humour, your toughness, and your impossible, no, just rather improbable hair. I think you'd like her. Yes, I think you'd like her very much. I'm here because she's getting married. To her Lily. You'd like her, too. A lot." He paused and rubbed his nose. "I gave John a ring. Not a wedding ring. Just wanted to give him something, and it seemed the thing, other people do. I never really thanked you, for keeping him safe, when I was gone. He needed someone, someone like you, who would see him as I did, as I still do. So thank you, for that, and thank you for Rosie."

"At first, I didn't think I could do it. Raise a child, be in a relationship. I loved John, always had, you knew that, from the moment we met. We both, all of us, the three of us, we all made mistakes. Errors in judgment - out of love mostly, I always believed love was dangerous. No. I wasn't going to do this. Assign blame. I wish there had been a way, to keep you safe, all of you safe, I tried, honestly I did. You knew, you always knew that it was a bit of a lost cause, I think. I wish I had a bit of faith that somehow you know how Rosie turned out, that John is happy, somehow I managed that finally, he allowed himself be happy." 

He looked up as he heard the rumbling of thunder, and shook his head. "Maybe I'm wrong, Mary. It has happened from time to time. I'm going home, before it starts pouring, and it's nearly time for tea." He got to his feet slowly and brushed the grass clippings from his coat.

"I come here sometimes."

He turned on his heel and found Rosie smiling at him. 

"I've never seen you here before."

He shook his head.

"I talk to her too, tell her things, about you and Papa, Lily, stuff. I know it's irrational, I know she's not there, but I always felt a bit better - it's not because I couldn't tell you things. There were days when I just needed to yell at the world, and this place was here, does that make sense?"

"Confessional of a sort."

She nodded, and glanced up at the sky. "Do you think it's possible? I mean - no - never mind." 

"Some people find comfort in a god that I don't, can't believe in, and that belief can be more real than anything else, so I don't know why not - I don't have all the answers - but you already know that."

Rosie laughed her mother's laugh and took Sherlock's arm. "Let's go home, yeah?"

"Need to stop at the store first, told John I'd do the shopping."

She snorted and she wiped a tear from her eye. "Milk?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. "And tea, biscuits, food for Olive..."

"Ice cream?"

"Of course." He looked up at the sky again and shrugged as the clouds cleared as if on cue. "Stranger things have happened."

Rosie looked up at him, then cleared her throat. "So how many times exactly have you done the shopping?"

"In my life?" He asked as they walked out of the cemetery and he raised a hand to summon a cab.

She chuckled as she watched him count to himself. "In your whole life."

"Well, the first time I went into a store was the first time your Papa caught a cold, and Mrs. Hudson was at her sister's, before you were born. Then there was the time when you were five, that's twice; the night of the Father/Daughter dance, three - this will make four."

"Four?" Sherlock opened the door of the cab and waited for her to get in, then shut the door on her laughter. He glanced up at the clear June sky and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you might as well laugh, Mary."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the big day...

"How is he?" Mycroft asked John as they waited for the celebrant to show up.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm."

"He's doing surprisingly well, luckily Rosie knows his intense dislike for ties and didn't get him one."

"Smart, she always understood him better than I ever did."

John put down his mug of tea and shrugged. "They always seemed to, I don't know. She had a way, she never judged him, from the day she was born, she could find a way to help him breathe better on the days when it was difficult. Dunno... more tea?"

"Please."

 

"Da?"

"Yeah, Ro?"

"Why am I nervous? I love her, I know she loves me -"

Sherlock fastened her necklace then caught the image of them in the mirror. He was implausibly nearly the same shape he had been the day of John's wedding, though his hair was more grey than anything else, and he needed his specs to see anything, though he tried to deny it, and she, she was no longer the tiny infant he used to cradle in his hands. A crown of fresh flowers adorned her spiky blonde hair, she wore a bit more makeup than she usually did, she hadn't wanted to look washed out in the photos, she had said - 

"Do I look okay?" She asked quietly as she watched his face in the mirror.

"You look remarkable, Ro."

"You're not just saying that."

He shook his head and gingerly wrapped his arms around her, doing his best not to crumple anything. "Have I ever said anything I didn't mean before?"

"No. I'm not sure what I'm going to say to her."

"I thought you had it all written out?"

"I did, but it didn't sound right."

"You'll figure it out, when you are standing there, and if you don't say anything, she'll still know what you mean."

"Yeah?"

"I know Lily, and I know you, and you are going to be just fine."

She closed her eyes and laid her hands over his. "Thank you, Da."

"Anytime, Ro."

 

John watched as Sherlock walked Rosie over to Lily, and kissed them both before laying Rosie's hand over Lily's. He whispered something to Lily, then kissed her cheek again, and returned to his place next to him, taking him by surprise as he took his hand, and held on tightly.

Lily cleared her throat, then lifted her eyes to meet Rosie's and began. "Rosie, I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I think I've always loved you, since the first day I saw you in class. There was just something good in you. I don't know, a light, a brightness about you, that I'd never seen in anyone else. And by some miracle, you loved me, love me, too. I know a lot of it is just how you are, but I also know some of it is because of your parents, how they love you, how they love each other the way they do, it shines through you. I know we've already been together for a long time, but today, in front of our family, I promise, Rosie Watson-Holmes, that I will spend the rest of my life, the rest of our life, cherishing you, adoring you, even when you make me eat spinach, and loving you for everything that you are." 

Rosie held her breath as Lily slid the ring on her finger, then lifted her hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles lightly.

"Lil', I had written something, long and complicated it took me weeks, and I knew it wasn't what I wanted to say to you today. A few minutes ago I realised how simple it is. Everyone, well, most people make love a complicated, messy thing when it isn't. I've spent my life surrounded by love. I have never known a day when I didn't know I was loved, that I was good enough as I am, and I know not many people are lucky enough to know that. Sorry."

"Breathe, love." Lily whispered to her, and Rosie nodded, and slowly blew out the breath she was holding.

"I am standing here in front of you today, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, a life that we will build together. I hope there will never be a day when you wonder if I love you or not. There will never come a day when I don't respect, admire and love you, especially when I'm trying to make you eat your spinach." With trembling fingers, she took the ring from Sherlock's hand and slipped it onto Lily's finger. "I love you, Lil'."

 

"You did good," Sherlock whispered as he took his turn to dance with Rosie.

"Yeah?"

"Uhm-hmm. You were right."

"About?"

"How people make love complicated. Love itself isn't complicated. It's people. People are a mess, generally speaking. Love happens when two people can make their messes work together somehow."

"You and Papa -"

"We are spectacular messes, as you know. Took us a bit of time, that's all."

"Love you, Da."

"Love you too, Ro."


End file.
